Fantasy Realms: Warlords, Witches & Wolves Reviews and Sneak Peak of Witch Bound

The Fantasy Realms Anthology: Warlords, Witches & Wolves is out with ARC readers and getting some great reviews and my novella in the anthology, Witch Bound, got its first couple of reviews in the last few days:

‘I want to be wanted for me. Not because I have power. Not because my gift gives my pack an advantage.’
This is possibly one of the most relatable quotes from a story I have ever read, and it’s not from this world at all. It’s from Witch Bound, by Leisl Leighton, part of the Warlords, Witches & Wolves anthology … Witch Bound has such a fast-paced story, I found myself almost panting to keep up, which fits well with the Were characters. Another thing I like about this novella, is the sense of immersion. I felt immediately drawn into the world of the story, which is something only the best paranormal romance delivers. I didn’t need masses of expositional mapping or glossaries. It was easy enough to pick up the threads and I was hooked very quickly into the world of warlocks, Weres and witches. The heroine is exciting and courageous, and the hero is suitably conflicted. I’ll definitely be on the lookout for the new series that follows this teaser.

Clyve Rose – Goodreads

OMG! I just finished reading ‘Witch Bound by @leislleightonauthor , her contribution to the WWW anthology. Soooo good! If you loved her Pack Bound books, you’ll love this one—so many of my questions answered!

SE Welsh – Instagram

I’m so thrilled readers are already responding to Paul and Ivy’s story.

There’s only 11 days to go until Fantasy Realms Anthology: Warlords, Witches & Wolves is released. Get it now for the special preorder price of 99c. After it’s released, the price will rise. 11 novellas for 99c – you’d be crazy not to snap it up.

And to whet your appetite, here’s a sneak peak of Witch Bound:

Witch Bound: Chapter 1

Paul Collins screamed.

He’d opened his mouth to laugh at his friend’s joke, but instead, the scream flew out of his mouth. Not a yell, not a shout. A scream.

He tried to shut his mouth, but the sound continued. It went on and on, a high-pitched wailing noise that would shatter his guards’ sensitive eardrums if he didn’t stop it soon. But there was no stopping this noise. It kept coming, growing and growing until there was nothing but the scream.

He was no longer Paul Collins, warlock, seer, son of the too-weak Pack Witch, Morrigan Collins, and Pack McVale’s singular hope for the future.

He was the scream.

A scream that echoed down through the vast channels of power that came to him from somewhere in the future, making him its bitch. Mortifying. Horrifying. Bringing him low until he was this … this miserable destroyer of hope and love.

He glanced around as the scream continued. His guard—those who were supposed to be his friends—were down on the ground around him, their eardrums blown out, blood streaming from ears, nose, eyes and mouth. He wanted to help them, but he couldn’t move. Could only kneel in the dirt where he’d fallen, his mouth open, the unearthly scream flying out to fill the sky and earth around him.

Leaves trembled in the eucalypts overhead.

The moon turned blood red.

The sky turned purple.

Warlock lightning—blue, green, orange, purple and a never before seen red—flashed all around him.

Purple wings in the sky, shrouding everything, hung over a pile of bodies—Were, witches, warlocks, humans.

And beyond, a terrible, oily darkness spread to cover it all.

They were dead. They were all dead. And he could do nothing to stop it.

No! No! Goddess, no!

He wanted to die. He wanted to die.

‘Paul!’

Something touched his arm—a hand, soft and cool on his heated skin, fingers curling firmly, but not painfully. He stared down at it.

His name came again. ‘Paul.’ Such a sweet sound. Like a siren’s call, it pulled him back, pulled him away from the black thoughts that crowded his mind. ‘Paul? Are you okay?’

He blinked and her face swam in front of his eyes.

Ivy.

Panic speared through him as he took her in, standing there in her oversized fluoro t-shirt, big hoop earrings swinging against her neck and big eyes staring up at him in worry. She looked so fresh, so innocent, so unaffected and yet … ‘No. No. Go away. The scream. It will hurt you. Kill you. Just like it did all of them.’

She frowned her confusion as he gestured to the bodies of his guard lying on the ground.

Except, there were no bodies. His guard were staring at him as if he was crazy.

He was crazy.

And she’d seen it. Again. Every bloody horrible moment of his crazy. As crazy as his crazy mum.

‘Fuck.’

‘Paul.’

‘Leave me alone.’

He shoved her hand away, her caring, her concern, and took off, away from their stares, their uncomfortable laughter and their attempts to make him feel better that would inevitably follow.

Not that Jackson and Luke and Stellan—the Were who’d been blood-bonded to him at his birth—would laugh at him like the others might. They were more used to his crazy and would fight to the death for him if he asked. They’d even fight their other pack mates to stop them from smothering their one remaining Pack Warlock with their concern. It was their job. Not that he’d ask them to ever do that.

Aunt Iris—more mother than aunt—had always taught him not to cause a fight within the pack. The Were could be hot blooded and formed cliques within the pack that were strong in a way witches and warlocks could not understand.

It was this that made them follow him now even though he’d made it clear he didn’t want their company. He shoved up his defences against the pack bond so they couldn’t track him through it and shoved all of his power into the one thought of escape.

Now.

The world swirled around him and for a sickening couple of seconds he was spinning through the void before he secured his intent and folded the void to his bidding. A tear opened and he stepped out onto a patch of soft, long grass where he collapsed, exhausted, miles away from where he’d just been.

He stared up at the sun, the long grass waving above him, silence all around except for one long, lonely howl that echoed in the distance.

Ivy. He’d hurt her. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but truthfully, it was for the best. She didn’t want to get involved with someone as weak as he.

Witch Bound Blurb

Pack Warlock, Paul Collins, is desperate to change the fate of his soulmate, Werewoman Ivy McVale, but messing with fate only makes things worse. Now the Were he loves hates him and the Pack is in danger and the only person who can help him fix it is Ivy.

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